


Milk and a Concussion

by Insomnia_Productions



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alois is a Whole Mess, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ciel is trying he really is, Fluff and Humor, I started writing this two years ago and then forgot about it, M/M, and finally finished it today, so I can very clearly see the switch in my writing style and I find it funnier than it should be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:21:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23790739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insomnia_Productions/pseuds/Insomnia_Productions
Summary: “You’ve been chasing me for months, consistently to your own cost, and you say that you love me, even though all you’ve ever gotten from me is scorn. I don’t understand you. What do you want from me?”Alois only laughed, a light, airy sound. “I don’t know,” he said.
Relationships: Ciel Phantomhive/Alois Trancy
Comments: 8
Kudos: 83





	Milk and a Concussion

Ciel shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling the pitying gazes of the other cafe-goers burning into the back of his head. Gritting his teeth, he lifted the cold cup to his lips and forced himself to acknowledge the truth: he had been stood up. 

Fucking unbelievable. 

Stood up—made to wait for half an hour in a position like this where _everyone_ could see what was going on—as though _he_ had been the one begging for this date all year. When he found that Trancy boy, he was going to… Ciel took a deep breath and set the cup down. Anger would get him nowhere—and yet he could still feel the heat of it, burning under his skin, making his fingers twitch with the desire to slap something. Or some _one_. 

He’d known all along, of course, that Alois Trancy was a mental case—he was, to begin with, a _musical theatre_ major, who had shown up to their shared literature class on the first day dressed in booty shorts, thigh-high socks, and three-inch heels, _and_ he was a walking cocktail of disorders, or so the other students liked to say—but what kind of idiot pestered someone for a date for a _year_ and then _didn’t show up_?

Sebastian would mock him if he heard about this, Ciel thought bitterly as the waitress set down his fourth cup of tea with a condescendingly sympathetic smile. But then, it was Sebastian’s fault that he was in this mess in the first place. Or, no, scratch that—this whole thing was, without question, Trancy’s fault. 

Ciel rued the day he had ever decided to take Classic Literature, unnecessary as it was for his studies in law and politics, but, really, it wouldn’t have made a difference, with Alois’ dorm situated just across the hall from the one he shared with Sebastian. They had met when Alois, running backwards down the hall, had slammed into Ciel and knocked them both over, but their first real interaction had occurred in class, when they'd gotten into a heated argument over the morality of a certain character. Ciel had found the experience frustrating and socially draining, but Alois had lit up as the debate went on, and had asked Ciel on a date immediately after. Of course, Ciel had turned him down—no one could deny that the boy was beautiful, but Ciel had seen enough to know that he didn’t need this kind of stress in his life. He should have known that Alois would persist, striking up conversations and flirting and debating him on every topic under the sun. And Ciel had been patient with him—really, he _had_ —until only recently, when he had snapped. 

And, okay, _yes_ , he had said _some_ _things_ he regretted, but he hadn’t said anything _untrue_. Sebastian had been disappointed in him. That had been a surprise—but, in Ciel’s defense, there was _no way_ he could have known about Alois’ foster father, and it was honestly rather odd that _Sebastian_ knew. Still, Sebastian had insisted that he apologize for some choice words, and Ciel had obliged. 

In retrospect, Ciel muses, perhaps this _was_ Sebastian’s fault. 

He’d sought Alois out after class, meaning to apologize—but, faced with Alois’ strangely alluring hurt expression, had instead found himself agreeing to go out with the boy just _once_ . Alois’ smile had lit up the cloudy afternoon, and now here Ciel was, half an hour into what was _supposed_ to be a date, awkwardly sipping tea by himself. 

His phone buzzed. 

**Sebastian**

_How’s the date going?_

Ciel huffed. 

**Me**

_It’s not. He never showed up, the prick._

**Sebastian**

_...I don’t want to say I told you so, but._

**Me**

_You’re the one who made me talk to him._

**Sebastian**

_I told you to say sorry, not ask him out._

_Still, I am surprised. I thought he was completely smitten with you._

**Me**

_So did I._

**Sebastian**

_Disappointed?_

**Me**

_As if._

His phone buzzed again, but this time the name on the screen had him growling under his breath. His finger flashed across the screen like a match against a matchbox. 

‘‘Trancy.’’

The responding burst of laughter—something between a nervous chuckle and a girlish giggle—did nothing to assuage his irritation. 

“I'm—I’m so sorry, Ciel, you sound positively _murderous_.” 

“I'm _feeling_ murderous,” Ciel informed him darkly. “Where the _hell_ are you? I've been waiting here for half an hour! Need I remind you that _you_ were the one begging _me_ for a date—”

“Right, yeah, sorry,” Alois said airily, sounding not in the least bit apologetic. “Actually, that's what I was calling about. I can't make it. Although, I do find it adorable that you're still waiting for me…” 

“ _What?_ ” The stab of disappointment Ciel felt was only because of his wasted afternoon, of course—in fact, no, that wasn’t disappointment, it was just anger. Yes. “Shut up, I keep my promises, unlike _you_ , apparently. You’d better have a bloody good explanation, Trancy.” 

“I wish you'd call me Alois,” he sighed, and Ciel could hear the pout in his voice. “And… define _good_.”

“Just spit it out, _Trancy_.”

“Fine, fine, no need to shout.” There was a sense of hesitation as the line went silent. 

Ciel scowled. “Well?”

“Ah, well, you see… I'm kind of in the hospital.”

Ciel pressed a hand to his temple; already he could feel a headache coming on. “Kind of?”

The line was quiet again, before Alois amended, “In the hospital. I'm in the hospital. Very much so.” 

“ _Why?_ ” 

“Milk and a concussion,” Alois stated matter-of-factly. 

Ciel waited for him to elaborate, but when no further explanation came, he snapped, “What the hell, Trancy?” 

“Look, I'll explain another time. Point being, our date will have to be cancelled… and, maybe postponed…?” His voice lifted with hope towards the end. Ciel felt his scowl deepen. 

“The deal was for _today_ and nothing else. I've already wasted thirty minutes of my life because of you.” 

He fully expected a melodramatic barrage of ear-splitting whining, so it came as a shock when his only response was a soft, “I get it.” 

“...What?” 

“I get it. You don't like me. It's all right, I'm used to it. I’m sorry for wasting your time.” 

Ciel’s fingers stiffened around the phone. He sounded so despondent, so resigned, so _lonely_ , and oh _goddammit._

“Bye, Ciel.”

“Wait!” He knew, he _knew_ he was being emotionally manipulated, but the exclamation was out of his mouth before he could register thinking it, and Ciel floundered for something to follow it up with. Thankfully, he was a social prodigy, so his recovery came quickly. “I've already wasted my afternoon, Trancy. Thanks to you, I have nothing to do today. And I _do_ pride myself on my honesty when making deals.”

“...So?” 

“So. Which hospital are you at?” 

.

Alois’s delighted shriek of _I love you!_ was still ringing in Ciel’s ears as he walked briskly through the hospital corridors, pace slowing as he reached the specified room. He’d told him, of course, that Alois would be paying him back in full, and had received a thoroughly untrustworthy promise in return. He'd told him that this was solely to keep Alois from pestering him more. But the boy had sounded entirely too excited, and Ciel felt his body brace itself as he reached for the door. 

Alois was sitting up in bed when Ciel walked in, head turned to the window and a bandage wrapped around his temples. The sunlight was shining directly onto his face, lighting up his hair and making his pale eyes look nearly white. For a moment, walking into that room, Ciel felt his breath stop. 

(Later, he would chalk it up to his asthma.) 

Then Alois’s eyes flicked over to him and he lit up, smiling considerably too brightly for a boy sitting in a hospital bed. 

“You really came!” 

“Of course,” Ciel scoffed, dropping the bag of food into his date’s waiting hands. “You never would have left me alone if I hadn't.”

“Fair. But,” Alois added slyly, glancing up at him, “I get the feeling you _wanted_ to come.” 

“Don't be ridiculous. Now, what the _hell_ does ‘milk and a concussion’ mean?” 

“Denial is the clincher, my love,” Ciel did _not_ turn red at the endearment, “but, to answer your question… I discovered today that milk should not be left to boil. It was kind of your fault.” 

In spite of himself, Ciel was intrigued. “Really?” 

“Yesh,” Alois affirmed around a mouthful of cake. Ciel watched his money disappear through Alois’s lips, which suddenly quirked into a smirk. Ciel caught himself staring and desisted immediately. 

“Anyway,” Alois continued, giving no indication if he'd noticed, “I was cooking and the recipe called for warm milk… but I was also texting Luka—you know, my little brother—about what I should wear for our date—which is where the blame on _you_ comes in, by the way—and I got distracted.”

“Shocker.” 

“I know. Suddenly I turn to see the whole pot bubbling over… I mean, it was _gross._ So I panicked and tried to get the pot off the stove, but I burned my hand and dropped it, so I stumbled backwards. Except, I was wearing heels, so I tripped and sort of hit my head on the counter.” 

A sharp burst of laughter cut the air. It took Ciel a moment to realize that it had come from him. 

Alois stared, lips parted in surprise, before a wide grin split his face. “Don't laugh at me, Ciel. There's blood and milk all over my floor. The TA’s gonna scalp me.” 

“Serves you right,” Ciel shot back, fighting a smile. He sat down on the hospital bed, fiddling idly with the blanket. 

Alois collapsed theatrically into his pillows. “So cold. All I've ever done is love you.” 

“Why?” It came out before he could stop himself. When Alois only blinked owlishly at him, Ciel sighed heavily and braced himself to continue. “You’ve been chasing me for months, consistently to your own cost, and you say that you love me, even though all you’ve ever gotten from me is scorn. I don’t understand you. What do you _want_ from me?” 

Alois only laughed, a light, airy sound. “I don’t know,” he said. 

Ciel closed his eyes and counted to twenty-five. When he opened his eyes, Alois was watching him with quirked lips. 

“You don’t know.” 

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, it matters!” He took a deep breath. “I’m going to ask you a simple question, Trancy. Can you, for once in your life, give me a straight answer? And don’t,” he added hurriedly at Alois’ smirk, “don’t even _think_ about making a gay joke.” Dutifully, Alois drew a finger across his lips, sealing them shut. Ciel watched him suspiciously for a moment, but, when Alois remained silent, he felt it was safe to ask his question. 

“Are you a masochist?”

Alois stared at him for a moment, eyes wide, and then he let out a shriek of laughter so loud that Ciel nearly fell off the bed. He gathered himself quickly, glaring at Alois, but the other boy was too busy cackling, arms pressed against his ribs, to notice. Ciel counted to one hundred and fifty-two before Alois began to wheeze, and he was at a hundred and seventy before Alois finally fell silent. Only for a moment, though, as long as it took to snatch a breath of air. 

“Oh my lord,” Alois gasped out, still clutching his chest. “Oh my _lord_ this is the _best_ day of my _life_. I can die happy. Oh my god.” 

Cielf felt his eye twitch. “And what,” he said icily, “is so funny?” 

Alois was now wiping tears from his eyes. A stray giggle escaped his mouth and he shook his head as though in disbelief. “Oh, Ciel, for someone so smart, you really are very stupid.”

“Excuse you—!” 

“I don’t think you know yourself at all. You’re not nearly as horrible to me as you seem to think you are. Almost everyone at this college ignores me, you know. You might be the only person here who talks to me.” 

“To tell you to go away!” 

“Well, yes,” Alois acquiesced, “but never at first. You always argue with me first. You can’t help yourself. My theory is, under that Ice Prince exterior you’ve got going, you’re just as dumb and argumentative as I am.” He tapped a finger to his cheek, pensive. “I think _that’s_ what I wanted from you.” 

“The arguments,” Ciel deadpanned. 

Alois shook his head. “The connection.” He reached out a hand, his expression wavering between hesitation and confidence. His fingers brushed Ciel’s and Ciel flinched, but didn’t move away. “What am I to you?”

“A challenge,” Ciel said without thinking, and blinked. 

Alois smiled. “Now you’re getting it.” 

Ciel pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “What’s your point, Trancy?” 

“You didn’t have to come here.” 

Instinctively, Ciel opened his mouth to protest—and then stopped, and sighed, and closed his eyes, and keeping them closed murmured, “I suppose I didn’t.” 

When he opened his eyes, Alois’ expression had shifted into something soft and warm, and Ciel blinked, feeling his cheeks warm. He hadn’t thought Alois was capable of such an expression. Alois said, “But here you are.” 

His fingers twitched closer to Ciel’s, but Ciel didn’t look down, transfixed, somehow, on the look in Alois’ eyes—a look he couldn’t quite place, but he thought he liked it, maybe. After a moment, he closed the last of the distance, curling his fingers around Alois’ hand, not bothering to fight a smile when Alois gasped softly in surprise. 

“Yes.” Ciel tightened his hold, ever so slightly, and Alois’ smile was a summer sunrise lighting the room. “Here I am, Alois.” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> when you boil milk but no one told you that it can suddenly froth and spill over without any warning so you turn your back for one goddamn second and the next thing you know your whole stove is all wet and gross and why did no one warn me what the fuck
> 
> .
> 
> So, around two years ago I boiled milk for the first time, and subsequently wrote about 3/4 of this fic. Then I got stuck, dropped it, and forgot all about it until quarantimes had me digging through old files in my laptop... and here we are. I haven't changed much of the original fic, save for some minor edits, so I, at least, can clearly identify the differences in my writing style from two years ago compared to today, and I find that so interesting. 
> 
> Anyway I had a dream about cielois yesterday so I just knew I had to get this thing finished and posted before the end of today, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed rediscovering it!


End file.
